Rainbows End

[DarthHERA]

Continued from Imperial Two-Step (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=34163)

********************************


Hera stepped from the sleek speeder as Commander Tchort's secretary, Temel, stood aside to accommodate her exit.

"Have a nice evening" he said automatically, as he disappeared back into the waiting vehicle and it sped back to Imperial High Command.

Hera turned into the Hotel, Thyferra's finest, and went directly to her suite.

Packing together her few things, the Faene Mistress was on the personal communicator to the "Wolfsschanze."

"I will be at the spaceport in fifteen minutes. Have the ship ready, we depart for the Maw immediately."

Tossing the last of her items, a toiletries bag, into the small case, Hera exited the room.

She had told Feild Marshall Tchort that she would be leaving in the morning, but never had the intention of delaying so long. Jarek may visit his physician immediately and find that it was Hera who was behind his short lapse of consciousness. It wouldnt be a reach to expect him to come asking awkward questions as soon as that happened. And perhaps bring a few burly men with decidedly unfriendly blaster rifles with him.

Besides, she had what she'd come for - The co-ordinates to the long secreted Installation where Hera believed Grand Moff Tarkin had developed, with his league of scientists, -- or atleast stored the plans to -- a superweapon like none the galaxy had seen in a long long time. The Ionic Ring.

("Created originally by Professor Renn Volz, it used a specially modulated ionic beam to manipulate a planet's weather patterns. Volz envisioned the ship as a climatizer, capable of altering the destructive forces of nature to make a world livable. He tested the ship on Zerm, and it was a success. However, he came under Imperial scrutiny, and Captain Bzorn took control of the ship. Bzorn used the ionic ring to destroy planets, turning their weather into stormy, devastating forces. The ring was recaptured by Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, and Chewbacca at Kessel, but Volz decided that the ship was too dangerous. He destroyed it himself.")


For years, Hera had been seeking the location of an Installation rumored to have been built in secret by the Grand Moff - <a href = "http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=10447&highlight=Ilyarna"> once </a> she even got close to finding and achieving that end.

Still, it eluded her. Hera had not let go of the hope of one day obtaining such a weapon, or the technology to build it. And this had led to her daring visit to the heart of the Imperial Command.

She spoke over in her mind again the memorized coordinates that she had hacked from Imperial High Command database earlier that evening.

If the plans were there -- and she expected they would be, having languished in the obscurity of an abandoned Installation all these years -- they would be hers.

Hailing a hovercab, the Sith's mind was full of the possibilities ahead. She got inside and directed the driver.

"The Spaceport, and be quick about it"

[Jarek T'chort]

"....I don't know what came over me, one moment I was standing up, wits intact, fully in control of my mental faculties! The next - I was slouched into my chair with a very anxious lady hovering over me."

Dr. Leo Maynard smiled as he shone a fingerlamp into both of Field Marshal Tchorts eyes and listened to the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Army describe his ailment.

"I would put such a condition down to lack of sleep. Or battle fatigue. Yet you seem to have neither, so I'm confused. This guest of yours, was she entirely trust worthy?"

Tchort narrowed his eyes at the elderly doctor in his white slacks.

"I would say yes. I trust her. She was a guest of mine, we had buisness to disscuss."

"I mean no offense to the lady, Field Marshal, merely I wish to rule out foul play."

Tchort conceded with a sigh.

"I know, thank you Doctor."

Maynard continued his examination, occasionaly taking readings from his compact medi kit. His eyes lit up for a moment, which Tchort instantly noted.

"What is it, Doctor?

"Your body has undergone a sort of paralysis. Some sort of electrical shock, I'm not entirely sure what it is, but you were unconsious through no fault of your own. See, your pupils are dialated, your breathing and heartbeat are irregular, all evident of some kind of shut down in the brain."

Tchorts face became as stone. His eyes narrowed to slits.

"You mean to tell me I was somehow put into a short coma by my guest?"

"It would appear so, sir."

[DarthHERA]

Hera strode up the loading ramp of the YT-2400 modified freighter "Wolfsschanze" or "Wolfs Lair" - her black cloak billowing about in her wake.

The protocol droid twittered at her in the doorway.

"You are in a hurry, Mistress. Nothing wrong I hope? Did you have a nice dinner with that Imperial fellow?"

"What?" Hera growled, "Oh. Yes. Wonderful. Now shut up and close the door. We've no time to loose."

Lifting his twin metallic arms in the air in exagerated futulity, the droid backed further into the ship, muttering how "they were always in a rush, and always ruining a perfectly nice visit to a perfectly nice planet to hurry off here and escape there, and steal this or steal that.."

"Will you shutup and close the door!"

"Well, really!"

The outer door swooshed shut.

Hera was at the controls of the ship and was already getting permission for departure when the protocol droid joined her in the cockpit, lodging himself into place in a specially built upright niche that would keep him from flailing about the ship during flight. Unfortunately, it could do nothing to stop the incessant chatter and running commentary that particular edition of droid was famous for.

"Scared another one off again have you? What was it this time - the three nuns into a bar joke? You didnt tell the three nuns in a bar joke did you?"

"Nooooo, I didnt tell the three nuns in a bar joke. I didnt tell any jokes, if you must know."

--click--
"Wolfsscanze, you are now cleared for departure. Exit nine-zero-DR2N5 bay doors"
--click--

Hera acknowledged, and powered up the engines.


"Did you smile? That would help. Did you tell him he had nice hair? Men like compliments you know. His eyes! Did you tell him he had nice eyes?"

Hera's patience was thinly holding.

"Noooooo...I didnt tell him he had nice hair. Or that he had nice eyes. But I did tell him I have a droid who never knows when to shutup and that Im thinking of scrapping it and that he was welcome to any of the inner circuits he might want to rip out"

Her tone had increased in crescendo much as with the engines had, both close to unleashing the pent up power.

"Well, really. With charm like that, isnt any wonder the Field Marshall sent you packing."

The droid, convinced of his superior wisdom gave a last indignant "hmmpff" and then fell silent.

Powering reverse thrusters, the freighter lifted and banked right, bisecting in perfect measure the twin open bay doors of Nine-zero-DR2N5 and accellerated into the deep black beckoning expanse of space that would eventually being them to the Maw.

[Jarek T'chort]

"This is bad. Very, very, very bad. No doubt about it."

Jarek Tchort paced his office while Temel searched the database, searching for the records of any recent data input. Temel was a younger man, only twenty four. He had been a civil servant before the demise of De Nostrandum, whereupon he had joined the Imperial Army as a clerk.

The dark haired secretary grimaced and looked up at Jarek.

"Well sir. It appears she was searching for the "Maw Map Grid". Specificly she pulled up this - " he fliped the monitor on its axis to face Jarek, "- map."

Jareks eyes searched the detailed diagram. His eyes soon locked onto what Hera had been so deperate to find. A small installation in the Maw.

"She searched for something called an "Ionic Ring" sir."

"What in the flaming hell is that?"

Jarek was perplexed. He was angry. He was now bent on repaying his mistreatment.

"I'd assume some sort of weapons system."

"That does make sense - the Maw was where Governor Tarkin experimented with all sorts of weapons. I wouldn't be suprised if there was something else there too. But all this time later I doubt there'd be much left of the installation, theres no crew or even droids there as far as this file shows."

Temel nodded and looked thoughtful.

"Even so.....what if there is something?"

Jarek arched an eyebrow.

"Then we make sure she doesn't get what she wants. We can't do this by normal channels though. what transpired here is limited to myself, you and Dr. Maynard."

Temel nodded again.

"What about Vryss?"

"The man is far to ambitious, if he found out he could use it to his own ends."

Temel looked back at the screen and noted the coordinates as Jareks face broke into an evil smile.

"Get me Colonel Tear, Imperial Intelligence."

[DarthHERA]

Time had passed so slowly. It was almost as if it stood still. But that was all relative to perception.

And Hera's perception was somewhat influenced by her impatience to get where she was going, her excitement at what she would find and her apprehension of what she'd left behind in her wake.

She was running against the clock, as well as against the possibility of Imperial pursuers.

Though there had been no indication of the latter, Hera was plagued by an uneasiness. She refused to admit it could be guilt. She didn't believe in guilt. Not really.

No - she determinedly put it to the fact that she'd taken a tiger by the tail, albeit the tiger hopefully did not realise it. And although it was only a "tweaking" of said tail - tigers were not usually too agreeable to such treatment.

But the risk was worth it.

Or would be, once they finally arrived at the Installation.

The Maw was a very long way from Thyferra and she had been forced to use her best connections to get through certain systems "under the radar."

So far, there had been no hiccups. Nothing to alarm her. Only the warm charm of Field Marshall Tchort and his trusting manner toward her kept coming into her mind's eye, bringing with it that now too familiar unsettling in the pit of her stomach.

To turn her thoughts to more pleasant things, Hera brought up again the information she had gathered about the Ionic Ring. Dwelling on the fantastic opportunity this weapon would bring her returned the Faene Mistress to high spirits and kept her thus until they reached the Outter Rim.

By-passing Kessell and entering the great expanse of the Maw Cluster, Hera's full attention was now given to navigating the "Wolfsschanze" safely through, avoiding the treacherous black holes and pinpointing the secret Installation her memorized co-ordinates promised was there.

[Jarek T'chort]

A pale white face flickered up on the vidphone on Jarek's desk. The mans hair was cut short to his scalp, his eyes narrow and mean. His face was neutral, unemotional, above his jet black uniform, displaying the insignia of the 161st Fighter wing.

"Wing Commander Felter."

"Field Marshal Tchort, what can I do for you sir?"

Jarek leaned back in his chair, regarding the TIE pilot on the screen.

"Sometimes old favours need to be repaid. Debts settled. You catch my drift?"

Felter's face feel slightly, his eyes staying the same unemotional grey tone however.

"I do."

Jarek smiled and tapped a lightstick against his desk, making up his mind on whether to involve Felter. Well, it had to be done. The man was a TIE pilot, he had served on Fiorina several years ago under Jarek when he had been but a garrison commander. Felter had come under serious rape allegations regarding the daughter of the planetary governor. Jarek had discovered the allegegations were true through use of a -promptly disposed of- private eye. He had cornered Felter, making him know just what Jarek held over his head. The Field Marshal had framed an aide of the Governor with the self same P.I, thus saving Felters career and life. He had a lot to be grateful for.

"Then I want you and your wing. I have arranged a small........trip to a secret location. Your duty rosters have been altered, you will provide my escort. Plus I know you are an excellent pilot. Part of the reason I helped you back on Fiorina."

A toothy grin offset Felter's unease. The man was starting to sweat.

"My wing is at your disposal sir."

"Excellent. My assistant will contact you soon. That is all. Tchort out."

The screen went blank and Jarek leaned forward, deep in thought. His preperations were well underway now. He would soon be on the trail of that cursed woman. Deep down, Jarek was still rather suprised she had tricked him, but that suprise was overtaken with anger with her and himself, for being so trusting.

With a final sigh of annoyance, he rose from his chair. He had a meeting with Marshal Prem in five minutes. Walking from the office, he noted how it reeked of failure and of betrayal - a foreign concept to him.

[Tear]

Crunch! Ylor, Special operative of the Imperial Inquisitoriate, found himself staggering back wards clutching his face, or more particularly his nose, in pain. The Lieutenant squinted, trying to keep his watering eyes locked on the image of the man who had just caused the damage. “Frelling…” Ylor suddenly cut his comment short, dropping to one knee and rolling to the side, narrowly avoiding the glittering light of an orange beam that hummed its way through the air.

A devilish grin peeled back over Tears lips while his nimble fingers worked in unison to twirl the elegant orange blade through the air. “Always dropping your left guard before you go for that right hook.”

“Mhm..” Ylor remained crouching, using the free moment to wipe the water from his eyes before giving his nose a testing squeeze. “Is it crooked?” The Lieutenant queried, tilting his head up slightly at the same time.

Leaning over Tears blue eyes glanced briefly over his soldier’s nose in a mock gesture of kindness, “Nah…Well maybe…I mean no, it looks fine. Wait, was it always pointing this way? Tear reached out with his free hand giving the ridge of his friends’ nose a firm squeeze.

Ylor winced in pain briefly before lashing out with a kick, knocking Tears lightsaber from his grip and sending the now deactivated metallic cylinder clanging over the polished durasteel flooring. A hard fist soon found its way screaming up through the air in a hard uppercut, catching the Colonel flat in the stomach.

Clenched teeth exorcised a lesson in futility, as Tear tried to keep the air in his lungs from being forced out by the strike. Muscles began to burn with each block or parry, as precision strikes were launched from Ylor like a coiled serpent. The two soldiers moved fluidly their actions ever constant as they danced a deadly tango of determination and skill. Hand to hand fighting wasn’t about combinations or maneuvers it was about anticipation. Trying to understand your opponent’s next move, the twitch of their eyes, the lead of their feet, the rise of a shoulder or the twist of their body. If you saw what was going to happen, the fight was already over. Much in the way Tear did as the force whispered to him of warnings. Almost like intuition, you know its going to happen, there’s a part of you that think it might not but you trust your instinct anyway.

Tear twisted to the side as Ylor fist sailed through the air. A quick jab was launched into the Lieutenants side, causing him to crouch over somewhat to have a second strike brought down against his jaw, completing his motion as he crumbled to the floor.

This time Ylor remained on all fours, panting for breath as his lips tried to form words through the torrents of air being inhaled and exhaled. “Wh-at…was it…” Ylor paused giving his bottom lip a testing rub for blood, “this time?”

“Nothing. I cheated.”

Ylor’s face suddenly straightened out as his lips parted to unleash a series of chained cuss’s until the training door chimed and slid open with a hiss.

A woman bearing an air of confidence entered the room with a smirk on her face, “You boys done yet?”

“Just fini- erk!” Tear arched his back painfully as an electric charge sprung from his heel and snaked through his rigid body.

The Colonels body fell limp to the floor barely catching himself with his forearms as the electrical onslaught relented. He could feel it…the fingers of electricity coursing through his body. His fists remained clenched against the durasteel floor, as flickers of the electricity snaked over his body. It hurt but he held it…keeping the charge alive, harboring, storing, until finally reaching out…

Standing up confidently Ylor, slid the hand held tazer back into his pocket. “I can cheat too and yes we’re done Naom- Hrkk--!!”

Naomi rolled her eyes annoyingly at the redundant struggle between the two. “Whenever you two are done..”

Tear released Ylors wrist after re-channeling the energy out of his body and into the unlucky Lieutenants. He had been working on that technique for some time. Absorbing energy and then forcing it back out, although it was still new to him and painful to accomplish. Wincing uncomfortably, Tear rose to his feet,
“What is it?”

“A priority message from a “Temel” on behalf of Marshal Tchort. He wants you to meet him at his office in Command.” Naomi’s eyes glanced away from Tears face for an instant as she spoke.

“Jarek wants to see me? Alright, prepare my shuttle and inform Temel ill be there shortly.” The last word barely fell from Tears lips as his body twisted, catching Ylor in midair as he attempted to tackle the Colonel. Using the momentum Tear hurled Ylor over his shoulder against the solid durasteel flooring with a resounding pang.

An outstretched palm reached out causing the metallic cylinder a few feet away to slide over the floor until finally leaping through the air into Tears open hand. “Catch you later Ylor.” The other hand gave a wave over his shoulder before the hissing doors opened and closed behind the Imperial.

Ylor managed a faint wave, laying flat on the floor as Tear walked from the room.

Hours Later…

A soft drop of water rolled down Tear freshly washed faced as he laid back in Jarek’s lavish arm chair, propping his feet up on his friends desk at the same time. The Imperial Officer twiddled his thumb idly, curious blue eyes wandering over the office, waiting..



(Ooc: I apologize for the long post Hera I know you don’t like em
:p )

[DarthHERA]

ooc: I do make the odd exception, Tear :p
My comment about long posts mostly relates to battle threads - I find I cant keep all the military details straight in epic posts, thats all. So....behave!

*Also, Hera is quite a head of you guys time and distance wise if you are still on Thyferra. So somehow we have to parallel them up. If you need to conduct a few interactive posts between Jarek and Tear, dont wait on me. I'll be sure to chime in on queue.

*******************************************

IC


The churning black holes of the Maw Cluster were a daunting prospect. The fact that Tarkin had established a secret weapons developement and research facility here was sheer genius and revealed the great scale of the man's ambitions. The chances of the Installation being found by accident were almost nil. Moff Tarkin had kept his original Installation secret from the Imperials at large, placing Admiral Daala in charge of protecting it.

The secondary Installation, the one Hera was navigating towards, was under the same veil of secrecy - according to her information - only smaller and more target-specific in its purpose.

While the former facility's security had been breached, there had been no known record of the secondary installation, but only what Hera's noghri informant "The Seer" had revealed to her some time ago.

As the Faene Mistress labored to navigate safely through the treacherous Maw, her faithful, if annoying, droid prated forth in unbridaled statistical information relating to "....black holes, the Maw, unstable space; the perils of said unstable space; the chances of the "Wolfsschanze" survival of disappearing into a black hole; the fact that a droid would not, technically, die but a humanoid would; the life history of Moff Tarkin; of his personal molding of Daala; her loyalty of remaining at her post for years after the death of Tarkin, unaware of his demise; Daala's subsequent military misadventures; her retiring to community life; her breif resurgence into battle campains and ultimate vanishing from the military arena into an unknown destiny..."

Hera tuned him out as she considered Daala's life and tenacity of character to remain dutiful without a word of praise, encouragement or reassurance from her Superior. Only a sheer determination to do her duty. Hera decided Daala was too selfless, and suffered because of it. But she would still have liked to have met her.


"....which brings me to the construction of the super star destroyers and their impact on the galactic arena; the most well known being the Executor which, as everyone knows, was Lord Vader's flagship..."

In strident contrast to the ongoing diatribe of the infinitely knowledgeable droid within its belly, the YT-2400 glided stealthily through silent space toward its destination.

[Jarek T'chort]

The double doors of Marshal Tchorts office swung open, admiting the Imperial Intelligence Colonel.

Jarek was seated at his obsidian desk, hands clasped. He couldn't help but smile as Tear sauntered in. The man had no comprehension of millitary protocol. Rising from his desk, Jarek grinned and extended a hand.

"Good afternoon, Colonel. Please, no hugs this time."

Proffering a seat to the black uniformed soldier, Jarek sat back down and brought up a crystal decanter of brandy, it's contents glistening in the natural light that flowed through the tall windows that lined the back wall of his office. Jarek got straight to the point.

"I need your help."

[Tear]

"Good afternoon, Colonel. Please, no hugs this time."

Tear let out a small chuckle as he sat into the seat offered to him, slouching down in it comfortably. Cold blue eyes washed over his old friend first, inspecting the new lines of experience drawn over his face, then his uniform before breaking off to wander the softly lit office. A smirk played over the Colonel’s lips as his first memories of Jarek Tchort were refreshed. Dirt smeared faces, worn and weary through endless nights of battle. Tear always wondered if Jarek’s position had changed him in some way. On the battlefield the field marshal was in his niche, he wasn’t weighed down by decisions they came naturally to him, like any born leader. Having spent a good deal of time held up with Jarek in battle, Tear had gotten used to his friends mannerisms and expressions usually, reading what was on his mind before he said it. Watching contently as Jarek milled over some of his prized brandy it seemed like a burden was weighing on him but if it was just the position or something else he couldn’t tell.

"I need your help."

Tears eyes were instantly brought up to Jarek’s as a look of surprise swept over the Colonels features. Tchort was not one to ever ask for help. Call on old favors perhaps but help? Tear quickly sat up, taking the situation more then just a friendly reunion. “You have it.” There was no need in Tear’s mind to ask what he needed help with

[Jarek T'chort]

Jarek swallowed hard, eyes regarding his comrade.

"Thank you. But first let me tell you what exactly I need help with."

The Field Marshal tapped his keyboard once, swiveling the screen around to show Tear exactly what was displayed.

"That, Colonel, is the Maw. Few venture there, only the foolish or the brave, or thieves." Jarek kept an eye on Tear as he pointed at the display. A detailed map of the Maw, with hyperspace lanes and worlds marked on, hovering above a field of stars. "Thieves. That is what I need your help with."

Seeing Tear's quizical look, Jarek settled back into his chair and began to narrate his encounter with Hera DrenKast and her subsequent betrayal of the soldiers trust.

"So, once I was awake, I went to have a med-check and it was discovered that I had been stunned for a few minutes. Once the databanks of my processor were examined it was discovered that DrenKast had looked up the location of a certain installation in the Maw." -Jarek drummed a finger on his desk as he spoke- "One not utilised since the days of Grand Moff Tarkin."

Jarek looked up at Tear, his eyes hard and a frown forming on his features. "I need your help since DrenKast is a force user. A very profficent force user to be exact. I intend to track her down and that - my friend - is where you come in."

[Tear]

“I always knew your high priced whores would get you in trouble…” Tear grinned benevolently, knowing that wasn’t the case but decided to take the jab at his buddy anyway.

For the past few months Tear was doing exactly what his friend was asking. Hunting force users to full fill an old mandate set in place and carried out by the Empire or more particularly Darth Vader. He had been after Jedi and hunted down several in the past few months. But he had never hunted nor gone up against a Sith.

Hera Drenkast, he let the name roll through his head several times letting it sink in. To be honest he wasn’t really familiar with the woman. Even though he was sure the Sovereignty had an intelligence file on her because of the fact he had glanced over the files personally but ironically enough, never thought he would go up against her.

Sitting back, an open palm called the crystal decanter out from Jareks hands and into his own. The Colonel stood pouring the brandy neatly into his glass before handing it to Jarek. The act wasn’t so much flaunting his ability but more of an assurance his faith wasn’t misplaced. “Sounds fun.” Tear let the smile spread over his lips as he stood and walked toward the door, opening it promptly. “I’m assuming, that is if she wasn’t planning on selling the information she is already on her way there.” Tears arm motioned for Tchort to walk through. “I wonder if she’s got a cute sister.” The dark rich oak doors closed with a soft click behind the two as they walked down the corridor. The beginning of the hunt.

[Jarek T'chort]

Lieutenant Commander Braxler leaned over his console on the bridge of the Imperial Strike Cruiser Heinous. He was a man in his thirties, a small scar crossing his left temple, under a crop of light grey hair. His green eyes snapped up as two figures emerged onto the bridge, the crewers instantly snapping to attention. Braxler himself stood up slowly from his chair, nodding his greeting to the new arrivals onboard. "Field Marshal, Colonel."


Jarek Tchort smoothed a wrinkle from his field uniform, a dark grey affair with the many medals that Jarek usually wore removed. "Commander Braxler, is everything ready?"


"The Heinous is at your command sir."

Jarek thanked Braxler as the other man attended to his duties. Turning and looking out from the viewport, Jarek watched the bright jewel of Thyferra below them. Seeing a world from space always filled him with a sense of feeling extremely small, a tiny cog in some much greater machine - which in effect he was.

The Heinous was a modified Strike Crusier under the command of Commander Braxler, an able, yet not especially creative officer. It boasted a compliment of stormtroopers, a full squadron of Felter's TIE Defenders and an formidable array of Ion Cannons and Tractor Beams. The bane of many smugglers throught it's service history, the Heinous now was acting as the tool of Jarek's quest of vengence against the Faene Mistress, Hera DrenKast.

Looking at Colonel Tear grinning toothily at a young female technician, Jarek nugged his force sensitive friend in the ribs and whispered, grinning in his turn;

"I thought you were after Madam DrenKast's - ahem - sister?"

[Tear]

Tear jumped suddenly as his friend gave a gentle nudge to his ribs.

"I thought you were after Madam DrenKast's - ahem - sister?"

A smile pulled back at the corner of his lips as Tear glanced back at his friend before returning his curious gaze onto the young woman. “Oh of course I was just …supervising.” Pulling the straightest face he could before he looked back to Jarek who had been keeping his lips tight trying not to laugh.

“But speaking of Drenkast. Do you know if she will be bringing any company to aid in her little adventure or is she solo?” Closing his eyes as he spoke Tear had been multitasking. Reaching into the great ether that was the force, feeling around and sniffing the air, one could say, for any sign or sent of his quarry. Tear yawned and reopened his eyes as his search turned up nothing of significance.

“I must admit Jarek I know little of Drenkast. I haven’t taken the opportunity to read over her Intelligence file just yet. Do you know much about her? Who she allies herself with, family history, what she is after in the installation specifically? It also might be prudent to find out what part of the galaxy she calls home incase we do not catch her in time.” Tears cold blue eyes leveled on Jareks as he spoke revealing the intent his last question carried.

[Jarek T'chort]

The Heinous had leapt into hyperspace as the two men talked, the viewscreen before them was an undulating tunnel of azure.

Standing still, behind Commander Braxler, Jarek held Tear's stare. A small smile settled on his lips as he regarded his comrade. For all his -somewhat embarrasing- lack of tact and millitary discipline, the man was an excellent soldier and someone in whom Jarek had complete faith. Tear was the opposite of Desaria, a man who, it seemed, lived by his code of honour and by millitary protocols.

"Hera isn't any old smuggler, nor is she a run of the mill darksider you can find slithering about on Corellia." Jarek had a low opinion of force users, with them, the phrase 'absolute power corrupts absolutely' was an inevitable truth, perhaps even with Tear.

"Hera was born into warfare, she was in the middle of a brutal clan war on her homeworld of Kwaylon, but she left and as far as our intelligence - and what she told me - can ascertain, she served under one Ogre Mal Pannis, possibly one of the most adept darksiders since the Empire. He taught her, trained her to the level of Master. DrenKast has had heavy involvment with various Sith groups, she is also intelligent and devious, as I found out, she is one to be careful of."

Jarek grinned, his eyes lighting up, "So don't plan a stroll in the park if she decides to put up a fight. Imagine Marshal Prem deprived of his cream cakes and you will know what I mean."

[Tear]

“Shh…not too loud Prems are secret dooms day weapon.” Tear coyly tapped the tip of his nose with an index finger while trying to keep a serious face. The Colonel winced as the barrage of intimidating information was relayed. There was, regretfully, much he didn’t know about this woman and most of it was not good last minute news.

Tears mind swelled, struggling to hold back a well of memories that eventually poured forth like a broken dam. A silhouette of a woman, she was that strolling casually through a shower of blood under a sky of crimson. Rolling booms thundered over the hellish landscape while silver forks arced over the sky.

Something pulled at the corner of Tears lip turning his smile into an almost evil grin. It was ironic, how he had worked so hard to escape one woman only to have to go up against another. Her name was Darana a Dark Jedi Master, his master more precisely. The man standing before Jarek Tchort known now as Colonel Tear was obviously not always known as such. He was once a student of destruction and hate. Learning and training in the ways of the darkside under her very watchful yet skilled eyes. No man could have wished for more. She wasn’t wrathful or destructive to those under her command or tutelage. Darana was compassionate, accepting and very lenient to those she valued. But like anyone who has owned a valuable possession, once its yours you don’t let it go. That was the problem for Tear he was a deviant. Never staying on the path chosen for him. So the apprentice left or tried to…In any teaching relationship you may hear the saying the student becomes the teacher. What they left out is sometimes, the student doesn’t pick the right time to assume that role. Like the essence of a raging firestorm the battle swept over what was once Tears home. In the end bloodied and broken the young man known only as Tear managed to crawl away in escape. For nearly the next year Tear spent his time evading hunting and extermination squads sent out by the dark Mistress until and old friend came to his rescue.

Irony it seemed, was the universes favorite tool of choice. Tear stood now on the bridge of the Heinous hunting down a woman that was probably just as dangerous, it not more, as the woman who had nearly killed him only a few years earlier. Time would soon tell how far Tear had come since that day. “I would be dissapointed if it was a walk in the park. Me and you only seem to go through the hardest challenges, why should this one be any different.” Craning his neck to the side slightly as he admired the female technician. Tears lips puckered and emitted a sound like he had been wounded by an arrow, “oo…now if you’ll excuse me.” Tear straightened up and gave his friend a wink, “I have some supervising to do.”

[Jarek T'chort]

"Oh by all means, go right ahead." Jarek swept a gloved hand in the vauge direction of the technician.

He turned to the stoic figure of Braxler steated uncomfortably on his command chair, fingers steepled.

"Commander, join me in your quarters, inform Wing Commander Felter and Major Lennon to join us."


A few minutes later the hull - grey door of Braxlers quarters slid shut behind the tall muscular figure of Major Lennon. Lennon was a man who had a fearsome combination of brains and brawn. Jarek wondered if a spar between Lennon and Tear would be a clear cut victory for his friend, or whether Lennon had what it took to take down the darksider. Brushing the thoughts aside he scanned the face of Felter, unreadable though it was. Felter bore no expression save casual interest as to what his mission was. Braxler was the same, though more surly - to the point of being rude.

"Gentlemen, we are on a hunt. I recently discovered that some important information had been stolen from my possesion, I want it back."

The three men seemed to perk at his words. This was a highly cloak and dagger operation, with the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Army, an Intelligence Colonel and three Commanders who had sordid pasts on board a Strike Cruiser, headed to some ancient installation.

"You are all here because I hold something over your heads. Felter - your crimes on Fiorina, Braxler - your responsibilty in a tanker accident over Jeunet and Lennon you are on charges of spice abuse while on duty." Jarek held each man in his steely gaze for a few sceonds as he spoke.

"These facts aren't pretty, but they ensure silence and loyalty from each of you. Be assured, should the details of this operation escape from any one of you, the details of your various misdemeanors will find their way out."

The trio shifted uncomfortably in their seats, well aware their superior had not issued an idle threat.

[DarthHERA]

Remkah's voice returned clearly over the comm, despite the great distance that spanned between where he was at SFF base and the "Wolfsschanze."


He was not keen on Hera's jaunt to the Maw. Especially going unaccompanied (with exception of the droid, but that was almost the same thing). He could give her no real concrete reasons to dissuade her. Their vast Intel network that ran the gamet of the criminal underworld through their various connections had turned up not even a whisper of Imperial activity that would raise an eyebrow, let alone an alarm that Hera's ploy against Field Marshall Tchort had been discovered. Even through legitimate chanels that SFF had access to, revealed noting out of the ordinary. To all intents and purposes, Hera had a green light to the secret Installation with no fear of pursuit. Things were clean. Squeaky clean. And thats what bothered Remkah. It was too easy.

Hera had no such misgivings and laughed at him and told him he was getting fearful in his old age.

She had duped Tchort. The man had probably gone to bed and woken the next morning with a slight hangover, on which he would blame the Admirals brandy. . The farther she got from Thyferra, the less Tchort filled her thoughts. The closer to the Installation, the more consumed she became with her goal. By the time she had navigated the Maw, her focus was set on the prize alone.

And that was her danger. Greed blinded people in many ways. So did impatience. Hera was famous for both.

Severing the communication on the happy note that soon ShadowFaene would have the means to bring whole worlds to its mercy, the Sith Master gazed out of the view screen as Tarkin's Installation shimmered before her like a corporeal spirit against the blackness of space.

It was not until 7 hours later that Jamo knocked on the door to Remkah's private quarters, waking him from a deep sleep, and told the Base Captain that he'd better come up to the Security room.

[Tear]

The bridge was nearly silent save for the random burst of girlish giggles coming from the young female technician, who’s named Tear had found out was Caitlin. She was surprisingly resilient in staying on task without being distracted. She even seemed to be multitasking, keeping Tears hands to himself while also running scans for any ships engine signatures, which when in hyperspace, was near impossible to do.

“Shhh your going to get me in trouble the captains already glaring.” The young woman tried to keep the smile from her lips as she avoided eye contact with the captain of the Heinous.

“He’s glaring? I thought he always looked like that…” Caitlin nearly choked as she stopped herself from laughing and slapped Tear in the arm. Tear in turned gasped and rubbed his arm with a sore expression. “Did you just strike an Imperial officer…”

Caitlin turned and rolled her eyes sarcastically while her lips curved in a smirk “of course no-” A flashing red diode lit up on her console causing her to cut her sentence short as she responded with a tap of a few buttons.

“What was that?”

The young technician waved her hand dismissively, “Oh that, its nothing its just a warning, informing me that we passed by a gravity well.”

“So…just how close were we?”

“Umm” Caitlin leaned forward, the light of her screens reflecting over her fair skin while her fingers nimbly worked over various keys. “Not very we have a very safe margin of error. If we pass any closer it’ll give a bigger warning then just a small red light, sir.”

“I suppose this means we are getting close then?”

“Mhm, I would estimate just a few more hours. So anyway, where did you say you were from again?”

Tear smiled, winking playfully as he slid off the console he was sitting on. “I didn’t. I have to go take care of some things. Ill call you later Sarah.”

“Its Caitlin…do you even have my number?” The young female technician frowned as she watched the back of the Intelligence officer as he continued to walk away, eventually exiting the bridge.

Foots steps padded over polished durasteel flooring like a grandfather clock ticking away. The sound of foot steps coming to a gradual halt in unison with the hissing of separating metallic doors. With a drowsy sigh, boots and the crimson uniform of an intelligence officer were shed like snake’s skin. Delicate cotton sheets rippled and stretched as they were pulled over a soon to be victim of the sandman. Outside Tears quarters, corridors continued to buzz with activity and a single ensign stood outside Jarek Tchorts meeting, waiting to deliver a message left to him. A message to wake a certain Colonel Tear when they were about to reach their destination.

[Jarek T'chort]

"Officer on deck! Fall in!"

The gruff voice of the Stormtrooper Sergeant echoed in the spacious hangar bay of the Heinous, causing the troopers to drop their activities and stand ramrod straight.

Stepping from the turbolift, Tchort and Major Lennon strode forward past the troopers who were already in combat slacks, performing the last vital checks on their equipment.

Tchort and Lennon came to a halt immediately in front of the gruff Sergeant, the silent troops in front straigtening even taller and straighter, somewhat perplexed as to why a Field Marshal was briefing them.

"I will get straight to the point, as I did not see it fit to brief you before leaving Thyferra." Jarek looked across the rows of faces in front of him as he spoke, each face held something different from normal soldiers. Like these men were ciphers, grey autons upon whom the deadly arts of inflicting destruction and pain had been imprinted.

"We will be arriving at a certain old installation where I expect to find a criminal who has stolen Imperial information and intends to steal Imperial technologies. However, she is more then that, She is a Sith."

Lennon sniffed, showing his opinion of a force user.

"A Sith Master, in fact. Therefore I expect each of you to excersize extreme caution and to stay close to our not - so - secret weapons."

Lennon grinned and hoisted a small nuitrient frame up for emphasis. On it lay a tiny brown creature that seemed sedate, yet it would twitch every now and again, showing it was awake. With the ysalamiri and Colonel Tear, there was no fear of failure among the troops.

Tchort smiled slightly, his eyes lighting up. "The capture of this criminal is our mission priority, any concern about the base or anyone else we happen to find there is secondary."

As he turned and let Lennon continue the briefing, Tchort glanced at his fists, which were clenched tight into white knuckles. He slowly unclenched them and let out a sigh. To defeat Hera he would have to be cool, calm and collected, otherwise all of this was for nothing.

[DarthHERA]

About the same time Colonel Tear was sawing logs on crisp cotton sheets-snoring loud enough to wake the dead; About the same time that Commander Jarek Tchort was giving his briefing to his troopers- the stern set of his jaw making the pulsing throb in his temple more pronounced; About the same time Remkah was retiring to his own quarters at ShadowFaene-from which he would be awoken some hours later by the hyper-active, ultra-sugared technogeek, Jamo Jakatta - About that same time, the "Wolfsschanze" YT-2400 freighter was sliping into docking bay 5 of the eerily still Tarkin Installation.

It was an inspiring construction - tribute to the granduer and glory of the old days. Four tall spiers stretched from either end of the drop-shaped bulk of the Installation, looking much like a giant metallic sea urchin suspended in its inky ocean of timelessness.

Inside, it was no less commanding. Gleaming onyx floors surrounded by blinding white durasteel walls combined to give an impression of domination and purity.

A knot creased Hera's brow, as she reversed thrusters and settled the spacecraft. Much of the earlier encompassing anticipation had evaporated from her - stolen by the unusual absence of security challenges during her stealthy approach to the station. In its place came a creeping sensation of apprehension. Not of danger - but rather, from the astounding lack of it.

She sat for a pensive moment in her leather flight seat, looking out at the vacant docking bay.

"Really -- " the droid chirped in, " -- it's no small wonder the Imperials lost endor to some spear-toting teddy bears, if this is the type of security they have. I do say!"

This definitely was not what the Faene Mistress had expected.

"It could be a trap" she said, thinking out loud.

"A trap? For who? From whom? Or is it 'who' -- no, its 'whom'. Perhaps you didn't fool that Field Marshall fellow after all. He could be smarter than he looks, you know"

Hera nodded absently, "maybe.."

She got up from the flight consol and took a blaster rifle from a overhead rack that ran the edge of the cockpit.

"You wait here, Im going to go get what I came for"

"Great idea! I was going to suggest the very same thing myself. You go, I'll stay." The droid all but hopped with enthusiasm.

Hera had already stepped onto the loading ramp to debark the ship before the droid had finished speaking.

"Dont worry - I'll look after everything here. I'll be right here when you come back." The droid waved a 'cheerio."

Hera didnt hear him. She was striding toward a turbolift, too busy denying in her mind and heart the evidence that her eyes presented them.

Touching her hand to the control pad to call the lift had no effect. The lift was not coming. The doors were not opening. She glanced around at the still, pristine floors of the hangar. No trace of traffic, either by man or machine, droid or ship was evident. It was not that there was no traffic of any sort for a long time, but that there had been no traffic of any sort. Ever.

A bitter taste coated Hera's mouth. Emotions began to stir in the pit of her stomach that she willed to be still. She fought the sickening tugs of disapointment that started to swell inside her, the rising anger that could conflagarate instantly if she allowed it. Hera breathed deeply. This might mean anything. Or nothing. She wouldnt know until she searched further.

Spinning on her heel, Hera strode to the corner of the hangar to a door marked "Stairs."

"This doesn't meant anything" she assured to herself, passing into the stair well.

[Jarek T'chort]

With a flurry of pseudo motion, the bulk of the Imperial Strike Cruiser Heinous shifted out of the twirling tunnel of hyperspace. The ships weapons systems were on full power, the long range sensors probing to find the errant Sith and the old Imperial facility.

On board one of five Assault shuttles, Jarek sat in the narrow benches that ran down either side of the passenger area and clasped his restraints about him, in unison with the nuitrient frame burdened Stormtroopers surrounding the Field Marshal.

He wore light yet durable grey anti blaster armour over his field uniform, looking like a watered down version of Tear - who wore his customary full black armour.

With a jolt, the shuttles left the hangar bay of the Heinous, their drives ignighting in unison, thrusting them toward the four pronged construction that loomed ominously closer in the viewports of the Imperial transports.

"We are picking up a modified YT-2400 freighter in docking bay 5, sir." Stated the cold voice of the pilot sitting in the cockpit.

"I belive we have found our quarry. Bring us about to the rear hangar bays. With any luck we will beat her to whatever she's looking for."

The shuttles were soon disgorging their white armoured cargo into the silent station, the first Imperial personnel to do since Tarkins staff abandoned it many years back.

[DarthHERA]

The protocol droid flipped switches and pressed buttons in a panic.

"Oh! Which one closes the doors!!"

He had not been aware of the arrival of the Imperial troopers until he had seen them through the view port trotting across the polished onyx floor of the huge hanger.

Dashing as quickly as his metalled legs allowed, the droid had bolted to close the hatch and attacked the control panel with stilted fingers.

"Finally!"

He chirped with relief and the door almost successfully closed. Almost, as the muzzle of a long black blaster rifle jammed forward preventing it.

Forcing the door in retreat, the "Wolfsschanze" was quickly commandeered in neat precision by the Imperials.

[Jarek T'chort]

As boots slapped harshly against the cool durasteel floors of the installation, Jarek paused at a pair of heavy blast doors, buzzing comlink in hand.

"Lennon here. Sir, we have her ship."

"Excellent, we are headed to operations, hopefully between my group and Tear's, we can cut DrenKast off before she reaches the labs and experimentation area. Tchort out."

His right hand gripped a DL-77 Blaster pistol firmly, the grip felt secure in his hand. He had no wish to shoot Hera down, but if it came too it -

"Sir, next turn is Operations." The filtered voice of the Stormtrooper sergeant beside him broke into Jarek's thoughts.

Clutching his blaster tighter, the pointmen dashed into the wider corridor beyond the blast doors. The Operations center was dark and brooding, in contrast to the well lit corridors they had just passed through.

"Get their mainframe online, I want the security systems up."

As several men broke off to perform that task, Tchort's eyes surveyed the single sign above the corridor adjacent to Operations., It read; "R&D Section. Level 1 - 3."

"Shes down there, follow me!" With a snarl on his face, Jarek strode forward, pushing onwards towards his quarry.

[DarthHERA]

The Operations was on the lower level and remained in darkness - with the exception of dull overhead runner lights that served no real purpose other than give a weak glow around their own bulb and show the general contours of the corridor roof. Jarek was forced to make his way forward slowly and stealthily.

But Hera knew he was there. She could sense him. She could just make out the dull shuffle of careful footfalls as they advanced down the smooth floorway leading to the Main Lab.

As Tchort held up a cautionary hand to the men behind him, he nudged a slightly ajar door open a little further with his boot in order to peer into the room within. The crackle of his communicator sounded as loud as an alarm klaxon in the expectant quiet.

click--"Commander, Main Frame has no power. Its a husk, an empty shell. Copy?" --click

Sitting in the blackness, staring at a lifeless monitor screen, Hera didn't move. Not even a flicker to acknowledge she was now not alone.

"How lovely to see you again, Jarek"

Her voice held no humor. No malice. No emotion whatever.

She twisted her head then to look at him. A strange, vacant look in her eye. Definitely not the fire the Field Marshall had perhaps anticipated.

"I had not thought it to be quite so soon, but a pleasure just the same"

[Jarek T'chort]

Eyes squinting to see in the pitch dark, Jarek almost jumped when Hera spoke - almost. With a smooth motion he slid the door open and stepped in, bringing his blaster to bear, barrel pointed at the Sith Mistress' head.

"Hardly a pleasure by any stretch of the imagination, Hera."

The ghost like figures of stormtroopers slipped in beside him, each leveling their rifles at the stoic and slient Hera. A clicking of safety's being removed echoed in the darkness, the tension was tangible.

"I trust you have found what you were looking for, at least?"

[DarthHERA]

She ignored the question for the moment.

"There is no need for the guns, Commander, but of course, keep them if you must."

She hadn't moved a muscle.

"I expect you are angry, or is it the residual headache I gave you that causes your displeasure?"

[Tear]

Ding.

The groggy head of Colonel Tear was lifted from the sweet embrace of a warm pillow to peer out through one eye at the chirping sound of a door chime.

Ding.

“Go away!”

Ding.

“I’m serious”

Ding.

“I swear, to all that is holy, I will kill you if you ring that damned bell one! More! Frelling! time!”

…Ding

Tears hand slapped down onto his nightstand taking one of his twin blasters from its holster before stalking his way toward the door. The door chimed as he approached hissing open to reveal a young ensign who was whistling while rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“Die!” Tear leveled his weapon on the young man who’s face turned stark white in unison with the dropping of his jaw.

“s-s-ss-sir! Wait!” The ensigns hands flung up in front of himself in a desperate effort to stall the growling half naked intelligence officer.

“Wut.” Tears blaster emanated a high pitched hum as the power cells charged to fire.

“We are just about to reach the target. You told me to wake you up thirty minutes from destination.” The young man slurred the sentence together, spitting out the sentence with as much speed and accuracy as possible.

“…oh, Right.” The words fell from Tears lips in a whispered hiss as his drowsy memory loss faded. Turning the Colonel slipped a few credits from his belt that lay in a pile beside his belt and tossed them to the young ensign, moments before the dual doors whooshed together, leaving Tear to his privacy.

Moments later, water dripped from Tears toes to the cold durasteel floor below as he made from the fresher. It had become a ritual, one that had found him self going through too often. A gloved body suit was slipped on first. Providing protection from the elements with the help of nano technology, the Colonel, could go from desert to arctic and not have to change his attire. Another bonus of the suit was that if injured the suit would sense and restrict that portion of the body acting like high tech medic and apply pressure to the proper area. A series of clicks and the sound of tensing leather straps continued to fill the air of the otherwise silent room as Tear continued to clasp his armor on.

Tear turned from the view port he had been staring intently out of for the past five minutes. A headache had been eating away at his temples since he left the ship. The nagging familiarity of a presence, not that of Drenkast or even Tchort but of something else, something from within. Smooth gloved fingers swept over heavy eyelids as the Colonel’s black armored figure strode from the belly of the shuttle. Almost oblivious to Drenkast’s ship which was almost immediately swarmed over by Jarek’s troops.

“Make sure you run scans over the ship for booby traps or any pre-programmed actions that Drenkast may use for her escape.” Tears advice fit the casualness of someone jotting notes on what to buy at the market, even though his head throbbed painfully he knew there could be no mistakes made when dealing with someone of Drenkast’s abilities.

Tear stood, nimble fingers working to slide his earpiece snuggly in place, while idly staring down at one of Jareks ace cards. The Ysalimari turned lazily and swiveled an eye to stare back at the man in black. Its odd that such a small animal could unknowingly be of such aid to animals that consider themselves so advanced. I wonder if he is enjoying himself sitting there being packed around to see the universe by the higher life forms. Tear raised his head to look around the room of troopers, some of which were carrying the creatures with them on nutrient frames.

The Colonel winced painfully, the throbbing pain intensifying bringing him back to the reality of his situation. Tchort had gone already like some wolf with the taste of blood fresh on his tongue. He had seen the same look in his friend’s eyes during the end of a vong battle. The vong had started that engagement and Jarek ended it, nipping at their heels as they ran to regroup. Seems office life hadn’t dimmed his friends taste for combat or…vengeance.

Combat boots and the clicking sound of equipment shifting back and forth in locomotion the once dead hallways of the station were alive with sounds of the living. He couldn’t sense Hera, not with those animals being packed around near Tchort. It was a frustrating feeling to have ones sense dimmed to such a dull point.

A flash of red filled the hallways, only for a moment, enough to blind one to make you blink. Soft metallic walls sparkled with dust, dead air stale to taste but the blood…a spice to it all. Dripping slowly from the crease between wall and ceiling, falling with purpose to the floor, crawling with invisible hands and feet, reaching for you in a sense of desperation. Freedom.

Tear inhaled the stale air sharply, eyelids passing darkness over his blue eyes briefly returning to reality. The metallic walls still sparkled with dust. There was no blood no voice…

"Commander, Main Frame has no power. It’s a husk, an empty shell. Copy?"

“Idiot” A nearby sergeant was quick to slap his gloved hand over the young soldiers helmet. The sergeant grumbled as he reached down and flicked the soldiers comm link off. Brief smiles and muffled laughs resounded through the squad as they continued on, giving the young trooper a quick jab as they passed.

“Sir, The Marshals squad has stopped.”

Tear turned still rubbing his temples sorely with both hands as blue eyes that seemed almost glazed over glanced down at the mapping grid. Various blinking spheres gave off troop positions one group in particular wasn’t moving at all. “That’s just up ahead right?”

“Yes sir. Not even five minutes.”

[Jarek T'chort]

Jarek's lip twitched as Hera spoke, her words touched a nerve. For Jarek to trust someone was a feat in itself. He had been naive to the point of stupidity with this woman.

"Very well."

At his signal, the stormtroopers lowered their rifles to be held across their bodies, ready to be snapped up at a seconds notice.

"My anger is directed at myself, Hera. I was foolish, I am not so blinded with pride I cannot see that." Jarek's blaster had lowered too as he spoke. "However, you were too confident, too sure. Now, perhaps, you realise that."

Jarek grinned darkly at the woman and waved a hand at the lifeless machinery shrouded in shadows.

"Welcome, my dear Hera, to defeat."

[DarthHERA]

Heat flushed Hera's cheeks to crimson and a small twitch flicked at the corner of her mouth as Jarek's accurate summation stung her.

One didn't need light to know Hera bristled at his statement.

"Be very careful Jarek" she warned in a tight whisper, "You've already miscalculated me once."

The approach of Tear and his men was heralded by the sudden dulling of Hera's force sense. It was a sensation she recognized immediately having encountered the filthy ysalarmi many occassions before.

The Faene Mistress leaped to her feet and the troopers- and T'chorts - reaction was uniform. The metallic shuffle of weapons trained in unison on a target was immistakeable in the dim room as they lifted them once more to lock on Hera.

A hand-flick movement and the whip Hera had been holding idly at her side sprang forward and coiled its thin leathered tip around the Field Marshall's throat. Tugging on it enough to let Jarek know she meant business - that if she so desired, she could yank it with enough force to snap the fragile vertebrae of his cervical spine before his mens guns were shifted to aim and fire off a shot to severe the whiphold.

"Those creatures come no closer Commander, do you hear? I will not be humiliated completely"

She glared at him. He had won already. The Installation was a shell. Tarkin had been killed before his project was was complete and Hera wore the failure personally. She had risked so much and had ended with empty hands. Had followed the Rainbow, only to find an empty pot with no gold.

The hell if she would go to whatever fate the Imperials dictated castrated of her power. Go she would. Did Jarek not comprehend that? Did he not realise that on the remote chance she escaped the present predicament, that she had no where to go? That to run meant the assured destruction of ShadowFaene and that of her crew in retalliation? The Imperial's reach was long and nothing of hers would be safe. She had understood this in the instant she discovered that there was no technology to steal and that all was for nought. Surely Jarek saw this same inevitable conclusion. And yet he chose to humiliate her completely with those abominable force-inhibitors?

The devil take these Imperials.

Another imperceptible tug and the whip constricted.

"Not another step closer"

[Tear]

He had heard it so many times before. The drum of combat boots beating down over polished or in this case dusty durasteel flooring. The call of battle, the deep breathes filling your body with excitement before you clash with your enemy bringing with you every pent up ounce of hate, fury and wrath your mind and body could hold. Most of the time you wouldn’t even know your enemy. He was just another soldier fighting because he was ordered to. But in cases like this, in cases like this…you knew who you were after, whom the order to attack was from and why you were being told to do so.

I wonder if that makes this easier or more difficult.

Tears armored figure slid into view as he entered the room with an entourage of troops at his heels. “I leave you alone for five minutes…” Pink lips curved into a soft smirk as he looked at his friend being strangled and held hostage by prey. Tear had her Hera’s ultimatum to keep the creatures at bay in return for Jareks life. It ruse too obvious to be obeyed, especially when dealing with force users.

Tears black gloved hands fell to his sides one raising up with the sound of metal being brushed against hard leather, revealing one of Tears twin blasters tight in his grasp, leveling it at Hera. Tear continued to walk closer.

“Tell me Hera. In all your years in this universe have you ever loved?” Tear smirked and waved the barrel of his gun around in a dismissive matter. “Of course you have. Children perhaps…no maybe not your too much of a lone wolf for that. But you must love something or someone. This shadowfaene I’ve heard about maybe? I’m sure you have close friends or allies that may blend into the definition of “Love”. Everyone has some sort of love I’m sure. I suppose its what makes us human a reason to live or maybe to just avoid the terrifying fate of death and the unknown. To take hostages.” Tear continued to step closer until he was almost face to face with the Sith Mistress.

“People take hostages to live. In a hope that if they barter or threat they can discard that hostage in return for their own wants or needs.” The barrel of Tears blaster hovered inches from the womans forehead, an idle hand tensed onto the metallic cylinder on his hip, just incase.

“I can assure you Ms.Drenkast if you kill your hostage. Not only will you not live but I will personally make sure everything you have ever loved, past, present or future ends with you. There will be no bartering, the Ysalimari will stay for obvious reasons, pride or not.” In truth Tear wished the same Hera did of the void inducing reptiles. He could hear singing…a melody he hadn’t heard in years, echoing down the hall. If it was in fact actually down the hall or another hallucination. If this stand off didn’t end quickly the need for a hostage would become pointless. He would end up killing them all soon enough.

[Jarek T'chort]

Jarek's lip twitched almost imperceptibly as the whip around his neck tightend. Already, a small red weal was begining to form.

"Colonel Tear is correct. Kill me and your precious Shadowfaene will be crushed under the Imperial jackboot. Those you care about will be relentlessly hunted until they are found and exterminated."

With a smirk of his own, despite the chaffing at his neck, Jarek was confident. Hera could not escape, she knew that as well as he did. But then if she decided to go out with a bang - his smirk fell.

With peirceing cerulean eyes, Jarek looked Hera straight in her own, tightened, pools. The whip seemed to tighten again as he spoke.

"Hera, you are humiliated and beaten -" again the whip constricted "- I have won this day, give up now before you lose not only your pride but everything you care about."

With a flick of his eyes toward the impressive figure of Tear, Jarek let a smile crease his lips once more.

[DarthHERA]

Hera took a very definite dislike to Tear.

Who was this steroid automoton? And who was he to lecture her? And about love, of all things! Hera wanted to laugh..a person who knew her better would not have bothered. Still, the blaster to her forehead was a persuasive touch.

But even that would not have altered her path had she not already been aware of her situation as it stood.

Moving forward, one slow step after another toward Jarek, Hera relaxed the taut of the whip and advanced closer to unfurl it from about the Field Marshall's throat. Tear's blaster moved with her, the muzzle steady against her skin. Hera all but ignored him - as much as one can ignore such a large man holding a blaster to ones head - and instead addressed Jarek.

"Your dog yaps too much, Jarek - perhaps I should lend you my whip to leash him in..?"

She came to a stop and stood close enough to the Imperial commander that he felt her hot breath on his face. Lifting her hand, she unwrapped the whip from around him and, with a bend of her wrist held it up for T'chort to take, its length dangling idly and unthreatening.

Hera would never forget Jarek's gloating - for that is how she saw his refusal to retreat the yslarami - and one day she would repay him back in kind. In her eyes, he could read that clearly.

A smile flickered about her lips, but there was no mistaking it for one of amiability. Only, constraint.

"So....." she asked, "..What now?"

[Tear]

Tear smirked at Hera’s comment. “If I’m the dog. Does that make you the pu-” The Colonels words fell short however as his finger began to pull back on the trigger.

Its odd…Tear often wondered if anyone who was about to be shot would even hear the click of a blaster, or would it simply be the “blam” of the blaster bolt firing off? Or maybe, they may not even notice the gun firing at all, perhaps their mind would be to busy flashing through memories to pay attention to their end. In this case however, Tear was very sure by the ghostly white expression that flooded Hera’s features as she heard the click of a blaster being fired. She probably didn’t even feel it. The blaster would have incinerated her forehead almost instantly at that range and the remaining plasma would have burned its way through anything else in its way.

Not that Tear could see what exactly it had burned through. The haze of red mist was still floating through the air like a heavy cloud of rain. A foreign drop of red found itself dripping freely down Tears cheek, accompanied by many others from the same source. Tear turned to see Jareks face had taken the same expression Hera had donned moments before. His face splattered with the same crimson that tickled its way down, Tears face and neck.

Tear licked his damp lips, the taste of iron filled his taste buds before shaping to form a soft whispered word, “oops.” The corner of the Imperials lips tugged up into a smile not resident in those who were sane.

Eyelids slid closed, or seemed to close with a quick glance downward toward the metallic cylinder being unclipped and ignited. A sharp hiss quickly pierced the stunned silence of the room, illuminating its inhabitants in a dull orange light. A shuffle of weapons being drawn and raised quickly resounded through the room. Not that it mattered in such close quarters. Shots were squeezed off in a frantic attempt to stop the swinging blade from its constant fluid motion as Tear cut through anyone within reach. Flashes of light played with the shadows of the dust covered corridors. Screams and shouts followed suit, echoing in a ghostly moan throughout the abandoned facility.

Ta’sath.

Tear inhaled sharply as his world shifted and blurred in a swirl of color and commotion, his body swaying only slightly with the lurch of reality.

"So....." she asked, "..What now?" The silence of the room provided Hera’s words with an echoing clarity.

Let it happen. Ta’sath’s voice dripped suggestively down the insides of Tears mind. Muscles burned with anticipation. Tear could feel his blood boiling for the thrill of a kill. The need for death and destruction washing through his body, No reason, no direction, just pure hatred and chaos. Ta’sath was free again.

oOo figured it out did you? Tears eyes darted from Hera’s as a wave of fear washed over him. If anyone could recognize fear she would probably notice it first.

Tears hands moved with a purpose, holstering his weapon while taking a pair of magnetic binds from the pouch at the small of his back. Firm hands gripped Hera’s shoulders forcing her down to her knees while the binds were slid over top of her hands up to her wrists. The binds activated, instantly clicking together while soft pins slid from the binds themselves injecting a fluid into her wrists, causing her arms to go numb within a matter of seconds. Similar devices were then strapped to her knees and ankles, while a blindfold found its way over her eyes. A quick gesture was given to the closest trooper as he took hooked an arm under Hera’s with Tear on the other side they began to drag her down the stations network of empty corridors.

The Imperial known as Colonel Tear, to those privy enough to have such information, was wasting no time in taking Hera back to the drop off shuttle. Her limp legs slid from side to side as they dragged her around corner after corner, eventually striding out into the open space of the shuttle bay. All the way Tear could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as Ta’sath chased him through the equal maze of corridors that was his splintering mind. It would only be a matter of time before he reached the center.

“Keep her drugged and stick her in the brig as soon as you board the cruiser. I want the blast doors locked and a full squad standing outside until I arrive. Also have the ships environmental systems ready to pump gas into the room at a moments notice.”

The trooper gave a swift salute with the usual crisp “Yes, sir!” before the small group continued dragging her onboard.